


5+1 Chase Misses the Obvious

by Kassaray



Category: House M.D., The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24790696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kassaray/pseuds/Kassaray
Summary: This is a 5+1 style story. 5 times Chase missed the obvious when interacting with House. It’s the setting and characters of first season House, MD merged with the fandom-created sentinel-guide mythos.
Relationships: Robert Chase/Greg House
Comments: 17
Kudos: 147





	5+1 Chase Misses the Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> I have been obsessively reading sentinel-guide fics lately and this was nagging at me. If you haven’t read sentinel-guide fics before, this will probably make zero sense. The basics are that sentinels have enhanced senses but those can be as much of a curse as a gift. Guides have empathy and the ability to stabilize sentinels. Sentinels bonded to guides are the most in control of their senses but there has to be a certain level of compatibility for bonding to work. Some works have perfect-match and fast bonding but I didn’t use that. This is much more gradual.

**1 - Interview**

  
When Dr Robert Chase was shown into the office of Dr. Gregory House, head of diagnostics, for his interview, the scent of a very compatible guide caught him off guard. He stopped dead as he focused on the scent. House saw him freeze, watched his nostrils flare.

“How many senses?” He asked casually. He went to the balcony doors, opened them to the breeze, and shored up his shields. The potential fellow was a very compatible sentinel but he refused to be tangled up in courting. It was more interesting and challenging to see if he could hide. 

  
“Five,” Chase responded absently, still trying to pin down the elusive scent that was dispersing rapidly.

  
“What level?” House pressed. Sentinels had two guild ratings - number of senses and average level of strength. Both on a 1 to 5 scale. Guides were ranked on the one to 5 scale based on mental strength, empathy range, and ability to influence. House was a level 5 guide but after the infarction in his leg, he had stopped going to guild mixers in search of a compatible sentinel.

  
“You’re not allowed to ask that question at an interview,” Chase pointed out.

  
“I am if enhanced senses are relevant to the job. This is a hospital. Enhanced senses are helpful in diagnostics and surgeries.”

  
“Level 5,” Chase admitted. 

  
“You’re welcome to invite your guide in if they’re waiting outside,” House offered reluctantly. “Hospital policy allows non-medical guides to accompany their sentinel anywhere non-sterile. They’re bound by your privacy clause, of course.”

  
“I’m not bonded,” Chase admitted. It was a big downside to a lot of employers but it was better to get it out of the way if they noticed he was a sentinel. Otherwise, there would just be uncomfortable questions later. 

  
“A temp?” House pressed. 

  
“No,” Chase said. “Is that a problem?” There was challenge in the young doctor’s voice, a hint of a growl. 

  
“Nope,” House replied, resisting the urge to reach out and soothe away the rough edges of the sentinel’s temper. “Plenty of guides in the hospital if you need them, including RNs and surgery-rated guides.”

  
They talked for a while and Chase’s senses locked onto the older doctor. Sight and hearing were solid. He maybe had scent. He’d get touch when it was time to leave. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to imprint but if they would be working together, it wouldn’t hurt. Taste would be harder. How could he find an opportunity to lick his boss? That would be hard.   
It was clear at least that Dr. House understood sentinels. Chase, in his imprinting came close to zoning on House but the other doctor caught it before he could be in trouble. House poked Chase with his cane once and then a bit later, insisted that they walk a bit. 

  
They came to another office near House’s after rambling in a circle. The plaque on the door said “Head of Oncology.” House burst through the door without knocking. Chase followed him and was hit full in the face with a room full of sentinel scent. The man in the white coat glared at them. For a moment, Chase expected to see a feral snarl but the other doctor just sighed.

  
“I have a patient, House.”

  
“That was the point. Dr. Chase here is interviewing for Diagnostics.”

  
“Go down to the clinic then,” Wilson suggested. The patient sat frozen. Chase turned up his sense of smell a little bit, dismissing the sentinel scent. There was another hint of the compatible guide’s scent. And there was the patient, rotten with cancer. House watched Chase scent the room. 

  
“Come on Chase,” House said. “What were you thinking? Wilson has a patient.”

Chase gave a frustrated growl. Wilson, who had been mild-mannered for a sentinel whose space was just invaded, snarled in response and shoved to his feet. Chase was startled by the response and took a step back. Wilson shoved between him and House but then just stood, fighting his instinctive response to what he saw as a sentinel threatening his friend and pack member. House wasn’t Wilson’s guide but threatening him was still unacceptable. 

  
House patted Wilson on the shoulder and nudged carefully between his new fellow and Wilson. Wilson was surprised by how subdued House’s scent was. House was closed off, not leaking fresh pheromones to help avert the crisis of instincts. Still, his actions were right even though his scent was all wrong. Wilson managed to let them leave. 

Next, House opened a door to a room with a conference table, a whiteboard, and a small kitchenette area. “Come back tomorrow,” House ordered. “Come in here. Deal with the paperwork pile that I’m sure someone in Human Resources will leave for you.”

“What about patients?” Chase asked.

“We’ll have to find one,” House replied absently, returning to his office and shutting the door to close out the surprised sentinel behind him. 

* * *

**2 - Flatlined**

  
“Foreman, MRI. Cameron, talk to the family. Chase can hunt for the lost test results.”

Chase heard the scrape of chairs and the door as the other two team members left. He sat very still, waiting for House to retreat to his office. The older doctor didn’t go. Chase heard House moving around the room. There was a sharp abrupt exhale of coffee scented breath in Chase’s face and he flinched. 

“Your sight is flatlined,” House noted. 

Chase was surprised by how calm he sounded. Many mundanes, when faced with a sentinel zoned or with one sense flatlined were a bit freaked out. Of course, House was a doctor. He had probably seen it before. In the time he had been a diagnostics fellow under House, he had learned not to underestimate the older doctor. 

“I can call for a guide from the SG area,” House offered.

“I’ll be okay,” Chase protested. “I’ll be able to dial back up.”

“Eventually,” House agreed. “But not easily or you would have already done it. I need you functional. A guide can walk you through the exercise more smoothly than you can manage on your own.”

“No student guides experimenting on me,” Chase insisted.

There was a long pause and House’s heartbeat sped up a little bit. Chase wondered what he was thinking, whether he was reconsidering keeping Chase on the team. An unbonded sentinel could be a big liability. Chase wasn’t even sure what exactly had triggered the flatline. His sight had been flickering in and out all morning. He thought that he had managed to keep it hidden. Luckily they had already been sitting at the conference table when it had just blacked out and stayed gone. He was such a failure as a sentinel. House would be right to fire him.

The pure misery pouring off Chase was impossible for House to ignore. Dumping him on a student or volunteer guide would be like agreeing with Chase’s self assessment. House wasn’t cold enough to do it. He decided to take the risk. 

House put a hand on the back of Chase’s neck, squeezing firmly. Chase startled.

“Dial touch back until you can’t feel this,” House ordered. Chase obeyed. Then House pinched his ear and had him dial touch down even farther. That was exactly what a rescue guide would have done. 

“Do you want to try with just one sense or do you want to do another?” House asked.

“One more,” Chase told him. House moved away from him and he caught the sharp scent of hand sanitizer. House came back and cupped Chase’s face putting the sharp scent of sanitizer right at his nose. It was wrong. Chase could only smell the sanitizer, not House’s skin and he was dialed back too far to feel the touch. 

“Dial back scent,” House said and Chase obeyed. He was used to obeying. With touch and scent dialed down and sight flatlined, his hearing naturally went up. He licked his lips, wondering if he could get a taste of House’s skin. He still hadn’t managed to imprint taste and House didn’t really allow him close enough to get a good scent imprint either. There were too many artificial chemical scents in the hospital air.

“Don’t lick me,” House warned sharply. “You’ll taste sanitizer and I’ll get a baby guide in here to fuss over you.”

“Okay,” Chase agreed.

“Just hold like this a little while longer, Sentinel Chase. You’re doing so well trusting me with this. I know it’s not comfortable. I have the lights turned down and the door locked. You’re safe.”

House’s voice got softer and softer, pitched for sentinel hearing. Chase dialed hearing up to follow it, firmly dismissing the hospital sounds as background noise. Chase latched onto House’s voice, heartbeat, even the creak of his knees as he shifted position. Chase was impressed with whatever sentinel rescue classes House had taken. Even mundane doctors were usually not very good at this. House sounded just like an experienced guide. 

“Dial everything up to match your hearing now,” House said, so soft it was barely a breath.

Chase hesitated only the briefest moment before obeying. Sight flickered to life at the same time he was assaulted by the too strong scent of sanitizer. House’s hand was on his face still. His thumb stroking over Chase’s cheek was surprisingly gentle and felt good to his now sensitized skin. Under the sanitizer, he thought he caught a whiff of guide on House’s skin and wondered who House had been touching earlier.

“Now, back down to normal levels,” House coaxed once Chase met his eyes. “I can tell you’re with me now. That wasn’t so bad was it?”

“You’re really good,” Chase admitted once he had his dials at his normal default settings. 

“Of course I am,” House said smugly. 

“Thank you for not getting the volunteer guides or telling the others about my flatline.”

“It leaves you stuck with medical records,” House pointed out. Chase shrugged, not meeting his eyes. Chase preferred just about anything over admitting that his senses or instincts had been out of control. 

* * *

**3 - Zoned**   
  
House frowned as he watched Foreman and Cameron clean up their lunches. They started back on the pile of file folders, trying to find him something interesting. Chase still wasn’t back from clinic duty, where he had been sent this morning. House had told him 4 hours and it was now almost 6. That was odd. The sentinel hated clinic duty almost as much as House. 

Something was wrong. He knew it. The urge to reach out and find Chase was almost too strong to resist but if he did that he’d reveal himself. He was enjoying the game of hide and seek too much to give it up easily.

“Find me Chase,” he demanded. Foreman huffed and rolled his eyes. Cameron frowned slightly, looking a little puzzled. Both of them went in search of the missing doctor. 

Within 30 minutes, Foreman was back. “Chase zoned in the clinic,” Foreman reported. “Did you know he was a sentinel?”

“Yes,” House replied irritably. “Why didn’t they call one of the guides down?”

“They did. He didn’t respond. He’s in the SG unit now. They called the guild to get a higher level guide. Cameron is waiting with him.”

“Find me a case,” House demanded, gesturing towards the files. Then he hurried over to the SG unit. He barged into Chase’s room and immediately kicked Cameron out. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?”

“You’re here,” she objected. 

“Go help Foreman find me a case,” House insisted. She went.

The sentinel rooms in the SG unit were set up like the infectious disease rooms with airlocked doors. The wall of windows was gone, giving the sentinels a safe neutral egg-shell colored cocoon of a room. The soundproofing was much better too. 

Chase was on the bed. They hadn’t set him up with any medical measures yet. Protocol didn’t require them on a zoned sentinel unless the zone lasted longer than 4 hours. They’d be in soon to set them up. 

The room had probably had half a dozen guides in and out already as they tried to break Chase out of the zone. He didn’t have to worry so much here about activating his own pheromones accidentally so he cracked his shields. He reached with his empathy for the sentinel.   
Second degree zone, he mentally charted. Definitely sight because that was Chase’s most problematic sense. Possibly either scent or hearing along with it. Probably hearing, he decided. If it had been scent, they would have already used hearing to bring him out. 

He ran a hand through Chase’s hair gently for a moment. That didn’t provoke any response. He fisted his hand in the ridiculously soft hair, tugging firmly. That got him a flicker of mental response from Chase. 

Keeping up the firm pressure on his hair he popped a breath mint and then leaned down to exhale the strongly mint-scented air at Chase’s face. There was another flicker of awareness. He yanked again at Chase’s hair and shoved mentally against the sentinel’s shields, demanding his attention. 

Chase’s eyelids fluttered and then opened. He looked at House’s face from close enough to steal a kiss for just a moment. House’s hand gentled on his hair as he pulled away. Chase inhaled, smelling House’s familiar scent and traces of more people under the thick mint. Guide pheromones saturated the room. 

“Guide?” Chase asked, confused. 

“You’re in the SG unit, Sentinel Chase,” House responded. “They brought you here about 2 hours ago. You had a bunch of guides in here trying to break you out before they called for a SG rep. I got impatient.”

“Rough,” Chase observed. House could feel that it wasn’t a complaint but the observation stung a bit anyway. 

“It worked,” House defended his methods. 

“Why didn’t they just do...whatever you did?” Chase asked.

“Modern teaching methods,” House groused. “Guides now are taught to cuddle and coax sentinels. The testing and training is very public. I grew up on military bases and back then, coddling sentinels was definitely not their practice.”

“But...” Chase still looked confused. He had felt a demand against his shields, felt the pain of his hair being pulled even through the zone. It had been a two-sense zone. It should have taken a high-level guide to pull him out. 

“Lots of guide pheromones already in the room,” House said casually even as he tightened and resealed his shields. “My training was just different from theirs.” Both things were truth. Sentinels were human lie detectors but he could misdirect with conviction and be reasonably certain it would sound true enough.

Chase sat up and House steadied him by wrapping an arm around his back. They were too close again but instincts were a bitch. Guide instincts demanded that he care for the distressed sentinel. It was easier to ignore them when the sentinel was a stranger but that part of him considered Chase his pack if not his own sentinel. He knew how compatible they were. It was so easy to help Chase and triggered positive emotional feedback.

Chase tilted his head just slightly. “Outer door opened,” he warned House, who nodded in acknowledgement and pulled away. 

One of the hospital guides in scrubs with a name tag identifying him as ‘Nate, level 3 guide,’ came in with a woman in neutral gray on gray yoga clothes. She had a generic visitor’s pass that just said, “SG Guild” without a name. 

“Sentinel Chase, I’m glad to see you’re back with us,” the woman said. “I’m Marcy Combs from the Guild. We were concerned that you might have been in a deep level two zone.”

“He was in a level two zone,” Nate insisted.

“He’ll do anything to get out of clinic duty,” House quipped.

“And you are...?” The woman asked.

“Dr. House. Diagnostics.” 

He edged around the two guides, careful not to touch. His shields should hold against a level 3 but the woman was a troubleshooter from the guild. She was probably his level. The guild knew his status. They had to for his protection but this particular guide probably didn’t and there was no way to be sure what she’d say if she sensed him. He preferred caution to avoid giving away the game. “Please send Dr. Chase back to diagnostics when you’re done checking him over.”

“I’m right here and not zoned anymore,” Chase pointed out. “I’ll go back with you.”

“I can check your shields for you while I’m here and run you through some recovery exercises,” the guild troubleshooter offered. “You’re not required to go back to work after a level two zone lasting longer than 30 minutes.”

“No, thank you,” Chase replied politely but firmly. The woman was a strong guide who used her talents often. He could smell it from halfway across the room. She was also a very poor match and felt like sandpaper against his senses.

“Well, you should at least let Nate stick with you today,” Marcy suggested. She too could feel how poor the match was with him and was glad she hadn’t actually had to coax him from a zone. 

“I’ll be in the hospital, surrounded by doctors,” Chase assured her. “They know basic zone rescue. House pulled me out of the last one. I’ll be fine.”

“You should have physical contact to help you stay with us,” Nate pointed out. “I really don’t mind tagging along with you today. And I’m an RN too. I might actually be useful.”

“No, thank you,” Chase repeated. 

House had made it to the door and Chase was determined to go with him. He cut between the guides and House so he could open the door for the older doctor. House stepped past and into the airlock, so close that his coat brushed Chase. The two of them stood patiently with both doors closed as the air cycled. House leaned on his cane a bit and swayed so his shoulder bumped Chase. Chase was fairly sure it was intentional. He had observed House doing the same with Wilson sometimes and the guides had stressed Chase’s need for contact.

“I’ll be fine, you know,” Chase assured him. House could be crabby when he was worried about someone or something. Chase did not want to get on his bad side. House hadn’t seemed upset by the disruption of the zone and he didn’t want him to change his mind. Chase was overall fairly impressed by the calm competence of House’s reactions to the sentinel bullshit. He did much better than a typical mundane. 

House was silent for a long moment. Despite his words, Chase was still spiky on the mental level and nervous energy was bleeding on the emotional spectrum. House could feel it even through strong shields. He wanted to promise the sentinel that he would be fine, that House would be sure of it. He didn’t. “I know you’ll be fine,” House finally settled on. 

When they got back to the diagnostics room, Foreman and Cameron tried to pounce on Chase with questions but House scowled them into silence. “Patient?” He asked, pulling them onto task. 

Foreman had found someone interesting enough. They started the differential with House writing but he kept a wary eye on Chase. When Chase started to zoom in on something, probably the ink or the paper itself, House jostled Chase’s chair. Then House plopped dramatically at the table with a clatter. Chase’s attention jerked up to him. 

“You write,” House ordered, offering the marker. 

“Thanks,” Chase said softly, giving him a crooked smile. House had, once again, saved him from the start of a zone. The others hadn’t even been observant enough to notice anything amiss. 

* * *

**4 - Headache**

  
Chase looked up with a faint growl as the diagnostics conference room door opened. He cut it off quickly when he recognized Wilson. The other doctor felt a little bit like a rival within the pack. He wasn’t sure what Wilson was a rival for but the instinct to warn him off was still strong. 

“Chase, do you have a minute?” Wilson asked. His voice was stressed but he didn’t smell of challenge, only mild irritation and worry.

Chase went out into the hall, closing the door behind him. “Yes?” Chase prompted when Wilson didn’t seem to know what to say now that he had Chase’s attention.

“House ... has a headache. He’s laying on the couch in my office. I have patients that I should visit this morning. I can send a resident but they’re mine and expect to see me.”

“I’m not sure what the problem is,” Chase said. 

“House needs...” Wilson stopped, leaking stressed scent. “I can’t be in two places at once. Can you please go sit with House?”

“Why?” Chase asked. “And why me?”

“Just... sit with him, please? Do... whatever you would do to tend a guide in distress. House’s pills will kick in soon and cut off the headache.”

“And he can’t just lay there alone waiting for the pills to work?” Chase pressed.

Wilson growled under his breath in frustration. This would be so much easier if House hadn’t decided to hide from the young sentinel. “Consult your instincts,” Wilson advised. “Would you feel good about letting House lay there alone in pain? Just coming here to get you was a stretch for me.”

Chase was more used to fighting his instincts than consulting them. Seeking them out and opening that cage took a long moment. Then he was nearly overwhelmed with the desire to seek out House to protect and heal him. He had never felt that way about a mundane. This was how he reacted to a guide in distress. 

He shrugged off the difference. House was someone who played a major part in his life and who had helped him with sensory issues. Instincts were weird. House had never said he was a guide. 

Wilson read Chase’s reaction easily and gave a soft snort of amusement as Chase brushed past him. House was laying on Wilson’s couch with space near his head and his lower legs draped over the arm. Clearly Wilson had been sitting there so Chase sat in the space. For a moment, there was no contact with House. Then House’s head pressed lightly against his leg. 

Chase reached out with a hand and touched the pain line between House’s eyes. House’s eyes didn’t even open. Taking the non-reaction as permission, Chase rubbed the line gently and then feathered his fingers out until he could lightly massage House’s face. Craniofacial massage was sometimes beneficial to headaches. 

The room smelled like guide. There were 5 or maybe 6 distinct scents. One of them was tolerably compatible. Another was the tantalizing scent of the very compatible guide he still hadn’t managed to find. 

After a short while of House being suspiciously passive under his hands, Chase asked softly, “What happened?”

“Child abuse case in the clinic,” House replied. “Authorities involved. Angry parents. Freaked out other patients. There aren’t enough pills in the world for that shit.”

“Ouch,” Chase said, trying not to growl. Bureaucracy sucked. And the safeguards in place in the system for abused children needed a lot of work to run smoothly. As doctors, they could only do so much. The stress was certainly enough to give plenty of people headaches. And Chase had learned over the last few months that House was more sensitive to interpersonal nuances than he wanted people to realize. 

“She was a guide,” House added. “The little girl. I called the guild but then I had to deal with the guild rep too. You know how it is.”

“She’s safe?” Chase asked. 

“The guide is safe,” House assured him. “She’s emerging young but the guild has her now. Her new home will take care of her. The mundane court and foster system won’t be able to put her back in a bad place.”

“Have your pills started to work?” Chase asked him. 

“Some,” House admitted. 

The pills had helped some. Being away from the emotional storm had helped too. The real cure though was still gently touching his face. Being the focus of a high level sentinel was the best solution. Sentinels couldn’t consciously manipulate their shields but when they tended someone and were focused, their shield expanded in an instinctive way to protect the object of their care. Chase was stronger than Wilson so he could help more. 

“If you can sit, I could do the rest of your head and your neck,” Chase offered tentatively. 

If House was better, he might not tolerate more touching. Like the guide House had rescued in the clinic, Chase had emerged into his senses young and had a lot of socialization growing up with other sentinels and guides. They tended to touch each other more than mundanes. Chase was never quite sure that he was getting it right when he interacted with mundanes.

He heard House catch his breath and the slight speed up of the other doctor’s heart. Was that a murmur? He closed his eyes and tilted his head, listening more closely. His hands stilled. 

“Chase,” House called softly. “What caught your attention?”

Chase opened his eyes to find that House was staring up at him. “Your heart.”

“Oh for...” House bit back the sarcastic comment about sentinels who zoned on butterflies, not wanting to drive Chase’s protection away just yet and chose a less abrasive response. “Everything okay?” He asked instead.

“A slight murmur. Maybe. Is it new? Has it been checked?”

“I’ll see if cardio can fit me in for some imaging this afternoon just to be sure,” House said. “First, you promised me a massage.” 

House sat up and turned, giving Chase his back. Facing this way on the couch, his good leg was bent at the knee and his bad leg could be stretched out towards the floor. He felt Chase shifting behind him to get a better angle. When Chase’s hand landed on the back of his neck, he bent his head forward to give the sentinel better access. If human vocal cords could manage a purr, he would have purred at the sensation and the lack of pain he found in being in Chase’s shields. 

Eventually, the pills kicked in fully. The Vicodin dulled the edges some and the Emoven buffered his empathic pathways that had been so abused by dealing with the crap this morning without a sentinel to shield him. An unbonded guide’s shields could never be as good as the ones provided by a sentinel. By the end of the whole episode, the guild personnel, a bonded pair, had been almost as concerned about him as about the girl. He had needed to call Wilson down to help him keep the guild from hauling him off to an isolation room. 

Reluctantly, House eased away from Chase’s hands. “Thank you,” he said a little gruffly. 

“Sure,” Chase replied lightly. “Anytime.” He meant that. He rarely felt so peaceful and complete. The sentinel instincts were settled, not yanking at the leash. It was fantastic. He really wished he could find an excuse to get close to House more often. 

* * *

**5 - Senses for Diagnosis**

  
  
“If I dial up, I risk a zone,” Chase protested.

“Cameron, go find one of the volunteer guides,” House ordered. 

“Try to find an experienced one don’t just grab the first you see. Foreman, go talk to the family.”

They left, leaving Chase with House and the sedated patient. “I don’t like the usual guides from the S&G area,” Chase protested softly. “None of them are really compatible.”

House could feel Chase’s reluctance and unhappiness. He tightened his shields even as he pushed the young sentinel verbally. “You’re allowed to refuse to use your senses at work without an accredited guide. If senses are a requirement to perform the job and an accredited guide is made available, refusing is grounds for disciplinary action.”

“You’re saying that I don’t have a choice,” Chase grumbled resentfully.

“No. I’m saying that your choices are pretty much to use them now with only me here or use them in 15 minutes with an accredited guide.” House was silent for a long moment. Then he took a step closer to Chase, more like he usually stood with Wilson, and nudged Chase’s shoulder with his own. “We’ve been okay so far,” he pointed out.

“Your rescue techniques are really good,” Chase admitted. “But you can’t link like a guide does.”

“And how does it feel to link to a guide who is only marginally compatible?”

“It’s a struggle to maintain and feels like sandpaper on my brain.”

“So why is that better than trying without one?”

“Zones are dangerous.”

“It’s your choice,” House said, voice gentle. Chase hadn’t protested the earlier contact so he nudged into his shoulder again, reassuring the sentinel instincts that he wasn’t alone in this. 

Part of him was clamoring to offer the reassurance of a link but the rational part knew that unneeded linking handicapped an unbonded sentinel. Modern sentinels were taught to depend on it and never needed to master self-management. Chase had done well so far without a guide. He had learned to manage and didn’t need coddled. 

Chase frowned. It felt all too right to be here leaning against House. He didn’t want a stranger guide. He wished, not for the first time that House had the guide talent. He was sure they’d be compatible. “You’ll stay with me?” He asked, hating how needy he sounded. 

“Arm or neck?” House asked. 

“What?”

“You don’t need a link but touch helps, right?”

“Neck,” Chase decided, bowing his head a little bit. House’s hand, dry skin, faintly calloused, settle on the back of his neck, squeezing gently. 

“I’m here. First my heart beat. Then hers.”

“You have a murmur,” Chase said softly.

“I know. I had the cardiologist have a look last time you mentioned it. It’s the same as usual, not worse.” His voice was pitched perfectly for a sentinel with dialed up hearing. Chase doubted that House was able to hear his own response.

“Okay,” Chase responded, voice barely audible to unenhanced senses. House ran his thumb gently along the side of Chase’s neck, giving something other than sound to think about.

“What about her?” House prompted. Chase closed his eyes and listened beyond House to the patient on the bed. 

“No murmurs. Her heart rate is too fast, not effective. It’s struggling.”

“Alright. Lungs?”

Chase answered him and he carefully led the sentinel through the most important systems checks. They’d take the sentinel’s information, faster than many tests and put it in the differential. This girl didn’t have time for them to play around. 

House ruthlessly suppressed the part of him that wanted to link with Chase to support him. They would be so good together, unstoppable. House knew he was talented but he was also damaged. No sentinel would want to put up with him in a bond. They’d want to change him. Chase seemed willing to accept the support he was willing to offer but House thought he’d turn pushy like the others if he realized House was a guide. 

Cameron arrived with a guide from the S&G unit but the RN, Nate, wouldn’t go into the room. “They’re fine,” Nate told Cameron. 

“House told me to get a guide for Chase,” she reminded him.

Nate struggled for a moment, trying to put into words what he was sensing and decide what could be shared. Finally he shrugged. “If I go in there, I’ll break his focus.”

“He could zone,” Cameron protested. 

“I’m right here if he needs help,” Nate assured her. “I’ll wait out here with you but I don’t think they need me.”

When the two doctors emerged from the room, House scowled at Nate. Chase was his. It didn’t matter that he had asked Cameron to seek out a guide. After working with Chase, House’s instincts were possessive. “We didn’t need you,” he told the guide. “Go away.”

“Sentinel Chase?” Nate prompted. 

Chase shifted on his feet, his shoulder bumping House. House didn’t snap at him or get irritated. He seemed to settle down instead. 

“I think I’m okay,” Chase assured the guide. Nate was nice but he didn’t need a guide now. House’s voice and touch anchoring him had been enough to avoid a zone after all. 

“Do you want me to help you resettle your dials before I go?” Nate pushed.

Chase ran through an internal check but despite the intense use of examining the girl deeply with his senses, they were still stable. “Everything seems okay,” Chase said. “We’ll call up if I need you. I’m sorry we dragged you down here for nothing.”

“Better to be careful,” the guide replied. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” House grumbled. “So sweet. Can we go to the office and work on the differential now? Remember the dying patient?”

The doctors went. The nurse-guide went back to the rounds he had been doing, working with long-term patients to stabilize their emotional health. It wasn’t the same rush as connecting with a working sentinel but it was needed and satisfying in its own way. 

* * *

**6 - Known**

“I can’t do that surgery, House,” Chase insisted. “You know that. It’s rated as an S&G surgery. I would need a guide to make sure I don’t zone. It’s too dangerous for the patient to have an unlinked sentinel operating.”

“We don’t have time to track down a surgery-rated guide. The patient doesn’t even have time for us to be having this discussion.” House glared at him and Chase glared right back. He had been zoning far too often to risk a surgery that needed him to crank his sight and touch so high.

“Help me up,” the older man finally demanded when Chase showed no signs of relenting. Chase studied his face and body language and took a discreet sniff. He didn’t smell like he was in more pain than usual but it was hard to tell with House. He offered House his arms and they grasped wrists, like trapeze artists. 

It was a good thing House had a firm hold on him because when the older man, touched him, Chase was so startled that his grip went slack. House had cracked open shields Chase hadn’t even realized existed. House was mentally reaching for him at the same time as he physically reached out. Chase’s instinctive response to that from a compatible guide was to reach back. Their shields connected lightly at first and then grasped solidly. 

A working link snapped into place between them, as easily as if they had done it a thousand times. Then House was standing and the mental link was gone as he released Chase’s arms. Chase sniffed again and there was a trace of guide pheromones that hadn’t been there before. House wore the slightest hint of a satisfied smirk. 

“Well?” House asked, allowing himself the rare luxury of projecting a brief flash of smug. “Are we going to save this kid?”

“Let’s do this,” Chase agreed. House was a doctor too so would have an automatic surgery rating. There were so many questions Chase wanted answered and more to be said but House had been right before. The surgery shouldn’t be delayed. In this case, work was life or death and needed to come first.

The surgery was hours of staying deep in his senses. House was a steady anchor maintaining the working link without obvious strain.   
He was an experienced and strong guide. Chase pondered how the other man had managed to hide himself while working with a sentinel. How had he blocked himself off so completely? But it hadn’t been really all that complete. How many times had Chase marveled that House was so much better at the sentinel crap than a typical mundane? He was usually there, doing the right thing. How often had House caught Chase before he could zone badly? Even Chase’s own instincts, his reaction to Wilson being near House and to House being in pain, treated House as a guide. Obviously part of him had known. 

They broke the link and went home separately but Chase found himself pacing his apartment restlessly. Why hadn’t House said something before now? Was Chase such a failure as a sentinel that even a very compatible guide didn’t want him? Ultimately those thoughts couldn’t mask the instinct to protect his guide. House had worked as long as he had. His guide was alone and might need protection. He couldn’t stay away. 

House yanked open his door at the knock. He stared at Chase for a long moment and Chase breathed in the scent of guide that House had been so careful to avoid at work. “Are you sniffing me?” House snapped, frowning.

“You never smelled like guide before,” Chase pointed out. “It’s new.”

House concentrated, shoring up his barriers more strongly against the young sentinel. Chase whimpered as he was cut off. 

“Get in here,” House invited. He flopped down on the couch and Chase joined him, sitting much closer than he had when he thought House was mundane. “Please tell me that you didn’t start a pre-bond,” House said after a long moment.

“Not on purpose. We were linked for hours,” Chase protested. “And then you just shut it down and left and I couldn’t relax.”

“I’m tired. My head hurts and my leg aches. I don’t need this tonight.”

“Have you eaten?” Chase asked. “I can order something.”

“Wilson fed me,” House assured him. “Now it’s TV watching time to make my brain be quiet.”

“I could massage your leg? Or get you better pain meds?” Chase offered, eager to take care of the guide as his instincts urged.

“No,” House replied firmly.

“Please don’t make me go home.” Chase was looking at the floor, embarrassed by how pathetic he sounded. He hated how strongly the instincts gripped him. He didn’t see the sympathy and want pass over House’s face so he was surprised when House’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

“No talking,” House ordered. Chase leaned into him, snuffling along his neck. Then he gave an experimental lick, getting the taste of guide. His guide, the primitive part of his brain tried to insist. House’s body language got tense but his arm didn’t loosen. 

“Behave. I’m not available for bonding.” Despite his words, House leaned his shield against Chase so Chase didn’t feel so alone but he didn’t initiate the link Chase craved.

“You’ve kept me from zoning at work,” Chase pointed out, pressing in closer.

“I need you functioning to work. That’s not the same as this.”

Anything Chase could say would sound desperate for any compatible guide. House was a stronger match than anyone he had met at a guild mixer. He didn’t want House to push him away or fire him. He chose to stay silent, nose tucked into House’s neck and his hearing tuned to the familiar heartbeat with the slightest murmur. House didn’t make him go away and eventually, his shields dropped a bit as the older man relaxed. He didn’t feel like they were so far apart and that was nice. Chase drifted to sleep so he missed the fond look House was giving him. He woke to a not-so-gentle gentle pinch on his shoulder and murmured a protest. 

“I have to get up,” House insisted firmly. “I’m too old to sleep on the couch and still be functional tomorrow.”

Chase sat up away from House, blinking blearily. House stood and made his way to the bedroom. He hadn’t told Chase to leave though and Chase wanted to stay where he could hear House’s heartbeat so he lay back down on the couch, hoping he could manage to stay there. 

He failed. Still half asleep with his instincts screaming that he needed to be near his guide. He crept into House’s room. House murmured indistinctly when Chase slid gingerly into the far side of the bed but didn’t protest. It was enough. Instincts quieted, Chase surrendered to sleep again.

When House’s alarm went off in the morning, he was pinned to the bed. Chase batted at the alarm clock. Then he realize who he was most of the way on top of and went red in embarrassment. He sat up quickly on the edge of the bed, turning his back to House. He was tense and radiated humiliation. Chase hated it when the sentinel instincts created socially unacceptable behavior. His parents had drilled into him that they were not an excuse.

House put a hand against Chase’s back, sliding under the t-shirt to rest against skin so he could be sure Chase would feel him. Then he surrounded the young sentinel with his acceptance. Chase slowly relaxed a fraction. 

“I get first shower,” House told him, as if it was all perfectly normal. “You make breakfast. Eggs, toast, bacon.” 

Without waiting for Chase to agree, he headed to the bathroom. House carefully rebuilt his shields, as tight as he could manage before his shower. When he emerged for breakfast, Chase was frowning. 

“So that’s how you do it. I know now. Do you have to?”

“Scent neutralizing spray too. Lots of SG personnel at the hospital,” House pointed out. “Unbonded sentinels can be a problem.”

Chase choked off a growl. “Who was bothering you?”

“Unbonded guides are always pestered. You know how it is. The sentinels come sniffing around to see if maybe there’s match potential. It’s safer to be careful.”

“We’re not supposed to bother guides,” Chase protested. “We’re taught that the guide can feel compatibility as well or better than us and it’s rude to press them if they don’t want to get involved.”

“Yes,” House agreed. “That’s what you’re taught now but it’s a hard wait to find the right guide. Some sentinels make sure that they’re noticed. And not so long ago, sentinels just snatched the guide they thought was theirs. Not all of them had modern nicities like consent drilled into them from childhood.”

Chase just frowned. He couldn’t argue that. Sentinels like that were out there. He wasn’t one of them. If he had been, he would have tracked the elusive scent of compatible guide all through the hospital and stalked any hint of it until he found House’s secret before now. He had wasted a lot of time being nice. But it was House’s choice as much as his. If House didn’t want Chase as a sentinel, it was his right. 

House ruffled Chase’s hair. “I’ll be right there at work. I’m usually there, right? It will be okay.”

“But...” Chase started, not sure what he could say to make House want to bond with him. 

“It will be okay,” House repeated firmly. “We’ll figure it out.”   
Chase had to accept that. 

**Author's Note:**

> It doesn't feel entirely finished to me, like there should be more. But the rest isn’t demanding to be written so I have no idea if I will ever come back to it.


End file.
